


Vicissitude

by QueenZombean



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 10:29:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1741397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenZombean/pseuds/QueenZombean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lacey is pregnant, alone and winds up near Mr.Gold's shop in tears. The distracting sound catches his attention but he has no idea what he’s in for once he goes to tell her to move.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

###  [Vicissitude - Chapter 1 ](http://queenzombean.tumblr.com/post/87815870132/vicissitude-chapter-1)

_AU Rumbelle Fanfic. Mr.Gold/Lacey French._

The sobs were quiet, almost masked by the morning’s gentle breeze, yet he heard them. Despair made a different sound than base sadness, it was a sound Mr. Gold knew well and one he took advantage of often. For a moment longer he listened, his curiosity perked. The source was close, obviously female and his mind, without hesitation, listed the top few reasons a woman would be out at six am in the back alley. None of those reasons peaked his interest. With a gentle shrug of his shoulder, Mr. Gold pulled out a key and placed it in the lock of his shop. There was a quiet clinking of metal followed by an old wooden squeals as he entered. Within moments the door was shut, the closed sign flipped to open and Mr. Gold was ready for the day – no distractions.

Or so he thought.

The crying followed him into his office. He wasn’t interested to find out why the woman was in tears, nor did he really care to entangle himself in the situation. Yet as he sat at his desk, he couldn’t help but listen every few moments to see if it had stopped or gone quiet. It did at times and then just when he picked up a pen picked up again. His eyes moved to an antique clock noting the time. If she was still there within the next hour he’d have to do something about it. Not for her sake, but his.

 

* * *

 

 

The cold wall of the building was beginning to hurt her back as she sat on a crate with her legs tucked up tight, arms wrapped around them and face buried into her knees. Lacey couldn’t move off of it, no matter how hard she fought the sobs that seemed to never slow. Her life, at least the life as she knew it, was over. 

She was pregnant. The test she’d bought had confirmed her fears and now all she could do was cry. How she’d wound up in that particular alley was a mystery to her. She’d been walking in a daze, her mind churning and her stomach twisting. The nausea had caused her to sit, and once she’d pulled herself down there was no strength to get up.

“Excuse me,”The sharp tone caught her off guard and she startled, her breath halting and at least, in that moment, she’d stopped crying, “If you wouldn’t mind taking your tears elsewhere. I’m trying to run a business…”

Lacey looked up, her gaze meeting his straight on. It was a brief encounter and she promptly turned her head, flinching slightly, “Mr. Gold…” She sniffled and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, “I..I..”

“I don’t need an explanation,” He was already turning away from her as he spoke, having cut off her stuttering, “I just need you to move.” There was a finality to his words and a quiet unspoken  _'or else'_ that seemed to tack itself on to the end of his sentence.

Lacey wished to say something or anything as an apology for the interruption. Her father had often spoke of him, and it was a well known fact that he didn’t easily forget offenses. Lacey didn’t need that added onto her current situation, “Mr. Gold.” She called out, her feet shifted quickly, but the muscles in them were weak and as she stood they cried out angrily at the sudden motion causing her to stumble. She shifted onto her knees and stared at her scratched hands, a trickle of blood rolling down her wrist from a small cut, “Just great…”She muttered before the tears returned and she was, once again, sobbing in the alley.

* * *

 

It wasn’t his name that had caused him to stop but the yelp she’d let out as her body fell to the ground that turned his head. This girl, whose blue eyes had met his and then averted them promptly, was crying…again. A sigh passed his lips as he surveyed her ripped dress, probably bleeding knees and scratched hands. It was obvious that despite his best efforts to avoid her, she was going to be a part of his day.

Giving into the inevitable Mr. Gold turned his body and walked towards her. His cane made a quiet ‘clack, clack, clack’ as he neared and the sound caught her attention. Again she looked at him and he could see the apology forming on her lips before she’d even spoken.

“Shhh..”He said quietly as he lowered himself with the aid of his cane to one knee, “Let me see your hands.”

Hesitantly she handed them over to him and he assessed the abrasions, “You’re a very lucky girl. Just yesterday I paid a young boy to sweep up this alley as someone had broken a few bottles on the side of my shop.” His thumbs rubbed the flesh of her wrist idly as he spoke. There was no intent to make her uncomfortable, he just found the softness of her skin against his interesting. “These will heal but you’ll need them cleaned.”

“Cl..cleaned,”She stammered out, her eyes welling up with tears again yet she was obviously holding back her tears, “I..”

“Yes, cleaned. Water, soap, band-aid. I assume you do have band-aids at your house.” His tone was sarcastic yet there was an attempt at dry humor, something to counter her sobs. Mr. Gold was not a sympathetic man and even this woman with her bleeding hands was beginning to get on his nerves.

“I…”She nodded, “Yes…b..but I can’t go …home..” And then she was crying again.

_Damn it._  He thought.  _Why did I have to turn around. Why does her crying make me cringe like this. Its not as if I’ve done something wrong or am responsible for the girl._

“Stop the waterfalls, I have some. ” The exasperation in his tone was evident, mostly at the fact he had to bring her inside. Slowly he rose and extended his hand, a gesture that the tearful girl seemed to only stare at instead of take. With a gentle growl he promptly added, “The invitation does have a time limit Dearie. If I retract it there is no returning.”

Her blue eyes regarded him, and there was something in the way she looked at him that peaked his curiosity. Yes, her eyes were brimming with worry and fear but there was a glimmer of something else. It was that hint which intrigued him and caused his hand to be held out for a moment longer. That moment was enough it seemed and she slowly reached up and took his hand.

“I’m sorry, I think I got blood on your hand,”She said, having withdrawn her hand the moment she was on her own two feet.

“It’s not the first time,” Was all he said before turning towards the backdoor of his shop, “Come along.”  


	2. Chapter Two

“Don't touch anything,”Mr. Gold ordered with his back to her only turning to say,“Stay there, I'll just be a moment.” He then disappeared behind a curtain, the sound of his cane in the other room just as intimidating as if he was in with her.

So that was  _the_ Mr. Gold. That was the man who ran the most out of the way Antiques and Pawn shop in the area.  _Okay...so he's a little scary._ He was as they described him, a shorter thin man with a slight hobble and long hair streaked with silver. His dominating presence pulled respect even if one didn't give it and Lacey was not immune to admiring how well his suit fit him. What had caught her off guard wasn't how much she feared him, but instead how soft his brown eyes were. The lines around them were cross and there was an intensity to his glare that could shrink even the tallest man. Yet what she saw...well...it told a story that countered his harsh facial lines, expressions and body language.

Lacey had expected his curt attitude and cold tone. He was infamous for it! He was a powerful business man tucked away in a tiny shop. His shadow extended far beyond his front doorstep. That was what made others from out of state desire his items. To own something from Mr. Gold was a status symbol in itself. It meant you could afford the best. His warm eyes though...intrigued her. Was there more to him?  _Yeah...as if you're the first girl to wonder that._ The inner thought made her chuckle quietly to herself. She knew that many a woman had been intrigued by Mr. Gold, she was nothing special.  _But then...why did_ he...The fact he'd stopped to help her, even though his face wore his thoughts on what an inconvenience she was, stirred something inside her. A hope that it was more than just his duty.

Either way Lacey was grateful and, although it had been her choice to follow him, she was in his debt. It was for that reason she stood still with every  intention of following his request that she not move.  _More like orders..._ Feet rooted to the spot, she let her eyes wandered the new surroundings. It was a rather cluttered backroom, which surprised her given he had a reputation for keeping his things very organized. Various items littered the shelves and desks. Despite the clutter there wasn't a speck of dust anywhere, which meant either stuff shuffled fast in the room before the dust could settle or Mr. Gold was a meticulous cleaner. Well, or he  _had_ a meticulous cleaner.

The pain in her palms pulled her attention back to her hands. They'd stopped bleeding and now just looked gross. Absentmindedly she wiped a speck of dirt off of the left one with her thumb. It wasn't her best moment, that was for sure. With a sigh she returned her gaze to the shelves. The sound of Mr. Gold's cane nearing caused her breath to hitch. She would have turned away but something shiny caught her attention and she raised her brow while edging closer to it. “Wow..”She said quietly amidst a gasp.

Nestled between an old thick book and a red vase was a ring box. The box itself was basic but the ring inside...now that was a sight to behold. Her pain was now secondary to the sparkling accessory. The large diamond was impressive but even more so was the way it was encased in a setting fashioned to look like a leaf and vines. The detailing stunned her.  _This is an engagement ring? Surely it can't be his._

“Hey!”He growled as he entered, his cane making a thump on the floor to startle her.

“I didn't touch anything,”Lacey responded, jumping back and almost tripping on his chair in the process.

“Ah..ah...ah....but you moved,”He waggled a finger at her, “I told you not to do that either.” With a shake of his head he moved over to the ring and pulled the lid down on it, “Now..”His hand stayed on the box for a moment before her moved to her, “Let's get you out of my shop.”

* * *

 

Her gaze on his ring made him feel uneasy. Was she thinking of taking it? Was this all some masterful plot to get her into the back of his shop. If it was, he wanted to meet the person who engineered it. Surely it couldn't be the girl with the blue eyes and chocolate hair that thought it up. No, no her tears had been genuine. You couldn't fake despair like that. Or could you?

Who was this girl? She didn't shudder when taking his hand. Her gaze met his straight on and when he gave her his most withering stare she still followed him. He regarded her for another moment before slamming his cane down. Her jump made him smirk and he delighted in her fearful retreat.

“I didn't touch anything.” She said, almost knocking over his wooden chair. He was sure she'd scuffed one of the legs. Damn that girl.

“Ah...ah...ah....but you moved,” Mr. Gold enjoyed details, “I told you not to do that either.” Without hesitating he closed the box and looked at it, “Now...” He sighed and finally turned back to her, “Let's get you out of my shop.”

Filling a basin with warm water he shuffled over to her side, “Now don't get the wrong idea, but can you please hop up on my desk. It'll be the easiest way to get to your knees without me having to be on mine.”

“How would I get the wrong idea?” There was a wince as she used her hands to help push her bottom onto the large wooden surface, “It makes sense.”

_How sweet is she?_ A roll of his eyes countered the grin that tried to settle on his lips, “Someday you'll understand...” Mr. Gold promptly stepped to her left side, although the desire to part her legs and rest between them popped up out of nowhere and he hastily cleared his throat and grabbed her hands to look at them. Picking up two warm cloths he squeezed the water and handed one to her, “Wipe your palms.” His other hand moved to her skirt.

“What are you..” She hissed as the dried blood in her wound relinquished the fibers of her skirt that it was bound to. A light whimper passed her lips but she didn't jump – a point he was grateful for. Tearfully she patted her hands and looked down at her knee.

Mr. Gold met her gaze and his impatience softened, “Perhaps I should have...” He stopped and tilted his head to the side, the light shrug as close to an apology as she was going to get. The scrape was large and ugly but it wasn't deep, “This is going to sting.” He said quickly before pressing the cloth to the wound. The warm water seeping into the raw area.

Another hiss passed the young lady's lips. It was a sound that he preferred to her weeping,“And this is going to feel even worse.” He said quietly as the cloth gently moved the dirt out of the open area. She tensed, “Whatever you do, please don't kick me.” Mr. Gold was issuing a request as much as a warning.

“No..”She whimpered and bit her lip. The leg relaxed and he returned the cloth to the basin. His attention moved to her hands. Taking the cloth from her he placed it next to the warm water. His thumb gently moved over her ruined skin. Even with the scratches it was so soft.

 “Will it scar?”

The quiet question pulled his attention to her, “Are you afraid of scars?”

She shook her head, the brown curls waving lightly with the motion, “No, no I'm not I was just curious how to explain them.”

“Sobbing hysterically and falling to your knees in an alleyway isn't efficient enough?” He applied a cool cream to her hands before doing the same to her knees, “Or are you looking for more of a story you can tell during dinner.”

“Just something that won't embarrass me entirely if my family...”She stopped and her lip trembled.

Oh please, don't start the wailing in here. It was bad enough hearing it from out there.”He promptly applied a flexible bandage to her knee and a small one to her right hand. Backing off he motioned to the door, “And if you must cry, you are in good enough shape to take it elsewhere.”

Lacey looked from him to the door and cleared her throat. The sound helped her remove the lump that had lodged there and she shook her head, “No...”

“No?” His brow raised and his eyes settled on her, “You can't stay here Dearie.”

“I don't want to stay  _here.”_ She intoned the final word to emphasize her intentions, “I just am not ready to leave  _yet_ .”

Grabbing his cane he gently rested his hands on it while taking the weight off his bad leg, “Okay then,  _when_ will you be ready to leave?”

The girl looked at him, her eyes wet and her lip red from her teeth biting into it, “W..when I get you to grant me a favor.”

“Ah,”He smirked, the crease lines in his cheeks deepening, “So you do have an angle. Let's hear it.” A tiny portion of him, the part that had admired her, saddened a little. The thought of her being as sweet as she seemed was something that had caught him off guard and the fact she was asking him for a favor meant she was, depressingly, like every other woman who had asked the same of him.

* * *

Her heart was thumping to the point she was sure he could hear it. Lacey didn't know what had caused the words to leave her mouth but now she was stuck with them. He was waiting.

“Well,”He urged in a sharper tone, “I could be charging you for my time, Dearie.”

Each time he used that word a small shiver worked its way from the base of her neck down her back. It was not a term of endearment in any way. Lacey cleared her throat, “You own...”

“A lot of things,”He cut her off, “If you expect anything from me for free you are mistaken. My actions here were not those of kindness or sympathy. I just wanted you gone and patched up seemed like the easiest way to move you.”

The words were sharp and she simply looked at him for a moment. Lacey took in his stance, his face and then his eyes. His beautiful eyes that she just couldn't help staring at. Their gaze held for a moment until his brow raised, a silent challenge for her to continue, “No, I want nothing f..for free.” The words had to be pushed out, “I meant to say that you own the small cottages at the end of town. Correct?”

“Aye, that I do.” He stopped, “Are you..”He motioned to her, “Asking to rent one?”

Lacey's head nodded slowly in answer.

 “Do you even have a job? References?” Mr. Gold snorted, “As if you could afford them.”

He was right. Lacey didn't have a job and she couldn't afford them. A stray hand moved to her belly and she rested it there.

“Are you going to throw up?” He asked, noting her movement as his eyes followed her hand.

“No, I just...” She teared up again, “I just need to get out of my house.”

For a moment he studied her. A quizzical look on his features as he was obviously trying to appraise her, like he would an item for sale, “You're wanting to run away that badly, I suggest you go talk to a Therapist or a Doctor or...someone who can cure the liquid seeping from your eyes. I'm not running a charity.”

His hand reached out and grabbed her arm gently tugging her off his desk. Lacey panicked and her feet struggled against his grip, “No, I can work and I'm capable...I can offer my services..”

 That sentence made him laugh. He gripped her other arm and looked down at her, “Oh really and what services do you think I could use...”His eyes raked over her body, “You're not exactly my type.”

Lacey wanted to curl up in a ball, “No..not that...I'm not that desperate to get with an old man...” She struggled in his grasp and failed, “I just meant I can help around your store or your house or your garden. I can...keep up the cottage or ..” She stopped when she noticed he was glaring at her, an odd look in those brown eyes she found so beautiful.

“I'm sorry.” Lacey said quietly, “I didn't mean ..” 

“Oh no,”He loosened his grip on her, his hand drifting up to her cheek, “Don't lie.” Mr. Gold spoke in a quiet whisper, accompanied by his thumb tracing its way along her jawline. It was a ghost of a touch and yet Lacey felt every single second his skin was on hers. Even when he dropped his hand she felt its lingering effect.

“I just..”Lacey felt her cheeks go hot and she looked anywhere but at him, “I just meant that what you hinted at wasn't my intention. I wouldn't ever ...”

“Sleep with an old man,” He added in briskly.

Lacey sidestepped the conversation and decided to change it, her hands motioning to the door, “Thank you for your help. I'm sorry this conversation ever happened. I didn't mean to insult you.” There was a tinge of fear at the stories of his wrath and she did her best to sound sincere as she truly hadn't meant it.

“Relax Dearie, I'm well aware of my age,” He placed a hand on the small of her back and walked her out, “Believe me, its a minor factor in all things I do.”

Lacey nodded and said nothing more as she exited his shop.

* * *

Mr. Gold watched her walk down the alley onto the main street. When she was out of sight he was amused to find that instead of relief there was...a different feeling there. He had enjoyed her blushing, stammering and complete incapability when he was near. It had been a long time since a woman had stirred a feeling like that in him. Most of the women that were in his circle of friends were rich, confident and cultured. They would never stammer.

“A cottage hmmm..”He said quietly to nobody but the items on the walls. His eyes moved to the ring on the shelf and he shook his head, “Well...lets see.”

 

 

 


End file.
